


am 4:44

by yijeong



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Blood, Depression, Eating Disorders, I'm Bad At Summaries, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Smoking, Suicide Attempt, Swearing, also at tagging, kun is a very supportive friend, sorry .-., yuta is trying his best to be a good bf :[
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2019-11-13 18:06:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18036272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yijeong/pseuds/yijeong
Summary: sicheng's not sure anymore what he traded his passion for





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> writing is hard for me lately as my mental health is declining worse than  
> ever, but it's a nice distraction to put words out somewhere, even if only  
> a few people read them ;//; yes, this is based partially off bang yongguk's  
> song, and partially off my own life and feelings.  
> i'm not in any way claiming any of this actually applies to winwin !!!!  
> if you decide to read i hope you enjoy regardless ^^;

it’s a hot summer day and the sun is hanging high among the clouds, shining through the half-open slits in the blinds almost obnoxiously so. it’s cooler in the room in contrast to the sweltering heat of outside, and nearly dark if it weren’t for the glow from behind the window.

sicheng can’t find it in him to get up and close the blinds completely though, instead pulling the thick comforter over his head and curling into a tight ball, painfully aware of how sore and aching every one of his muscles were. he wasn’t even aware of why his muscles would be so sore when they weren’t the day before, chalking it up to simply sleeping in some unfavorable positions.

of course, he couldn’t lay around in bed all day and he took a deep breath as he pushed the blanket off of himself and maneuvered into a sitting position, legs hanging off the edge of the bed, feet barely skimming the wooden floors.

already, sicheng feels the heavy weight carried on his two shoulders. the expectations laid upon him from his company, the public, and even those around him feeling like a crushing pressure on his already fragile frame, and he swears he feels the weight pulling him down as he rises to his feet and makes his way into the connected bathroom.

the reflection greeting him isn’t pleasant by any means, and he’s tired of being greeted with the same face everyday. sometimes sicheng feels so revolted by himself on days where he feels exceptionally bad, he has to hold himself back as he feels intense urges to bash his face into the glass over and over until it shatters and pierces his skin, until blood splatters everywhere and he’s left with nothing more than an unrecognizable, grotesque mash of flesh and bone and gore.

a phantom sensation of bugs crawl up his hands and wrists making him itch and only then does he know it’s time to turn away and leave the room, but not before splashing cool water on his face and plastering on the best fake smile he can muster. no one would know how scary the mask he wears is.

the other members of nct 127 are already out and spread across the dorm and a few stop doing whatever they were occupying themselves with at the moment to say a quick greeting to the chinese boy.

“ah, our sichengie is awake,”

a momentarily foreign pair of arms wrap around him tiny waist and he freezes for a moment as his brain registers them as yuta’s, and his shoulders slump down in relief at the recognition. twisting around in the other’s hold, sicheng rests his head in the crook of their neck and he sighs in greeting, obviously still half asleep.

“you used to wake up before everyone else, always so loud~” yuta teased, hugging his boyfriend tighter, “i remember you used to hate having days off like this, always complaining about how excited you were to go to dance practices or the studio.”

“i guess i got older, hyung,” it was a lame excuse seeing as he was barely 21 years of age, but sicheng didn’t feel bothered enough to craft a different lie. he couldn’t reply truthfully when he barely knew why himself, though he does remember when he was so full of excitement and passion for everything he did in nct. the lack of lines and being at the back of choreographies frequently wasn’t something that used to phase him, believing in the past that he was lucky enough to be living out his dream to complain about trivial matters. now he’s not quite sure anymore what he traded his passion for in place of everyone’s cheers, why he kept insisting on trying so damn hard for only to keep on running.

sicheng’s stomach churned unpleasantly at the uncomfortable thoughts (or was it the lack of food causing bile to rise in his throat?) and he squirmed out of yuta’s arms and forced his legs to carry him back to his bathroom. feelings of guilt and inferiority caused tears to prick at the back of his eyes and he collapsed onto the tile flooring, kneeling with flat palms pressed against the cool surface.

was he not as talented as he believed himself to be? there isn’t a logical reason other than that to explain why he would be given barely a tenth of the lines the rest of the group received despite working ten times harder to perfect his vocals, or as to why he was never quite in center focus for choreographies when he was the one who stayed after for hours every time to make sure he got every move down exactly. why should he be treated so unfairly when sm was the one who chased him down numerous times in multiple attempts to scout him? 

sicheng knew it was extremely selfish of him to think such things when everyone works just as hard, but when his inferiority complex gets the better of him and thoughts eat away at his brain he can’t help but feel like he shouldn’t be in the group at all. those feelings of inferiority and guilt are all that’s left, and reality rises and blocks him throat, making him choke on his sobs as he fights them down.

ever since he was young, the fact that life wasn’t fair is something that’s always seemed obvious. the fact that his father lost his job and he had to move in the middle of high school wasn’t fair, but neither is life. the fact that he got abused frequently as a child also wasn’t fair, but again, neither was life, so the thought of himself being treated rather unfairly in the entertainment industry of all places shouldn’t come as a surprise, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t leave a sting in his heart. there’s nothing much that can be done to change it, if this really is the card that life’s thrown at him then it must be right.

a harsh pain in his head pulls sicheng back to reality and out from drowning in his thoughts, and he didn’t realize until then that his hands were tugging harshly at his hair in frustration. frowning, he removed his hands and scooted back against the wall. the thought of another member, or his boyfriend as a worse thought, seeing him in a ruined state like this was enough to convince his aching body to stand once more, gripping onto the counter for support. others would judge him for what is so simple.

the chinese boy is greeted with his reflection once more, though this time the addition of fresh tear tracks and blotchy red skin adds to the picture. staring into his own nearly emotionless eyes, he thinks back to the few times he tried writing to help contribute lyrics towards any of nct’s songs. there were many nights that he spent pouring his heart into lyrics instead of sleeping, emotion dripping from every sentence and a dictionary on hand to help wherever his korean was lacking. 

in the end, none were worth reading, at least in the manager’s eyes. they didn’t appeal to the masses, didn’t go along to the trends, and in the end ultimately wouldn’t contribute to the end goal of money and fame and recognition that everyone fought so desperately to achieve. in the end, the lyrics were worth nothing more than trash.

sicheng jolted himself out of his thoughts once more as warm tears leaked onto his cheeks and he felt angry with himself for letting the negative thoughts affect him so easily and he shouted at himself in the mirror to go away before breaking down into a heap once more.


	2. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is like a flashback chapter? if that makes sense :v it takes place a few years in  
> winwin's past when he first joined sm. uh tw for minor child abuse? nothing bad.  
> sorry if this chapter kinda sucks ;-;

sicheng vividly remembers his first time meeting some of the korean members of nct, embarrassment evident across his face as he stumbled over his words in broken korean, his tongue feeling foreign in his mouth. he tried his best to make his introduction come across in his limited vocabulary and felt his face heat up uncomfortably at how long it took him to formulate the right words.

unlike taeil, who praised him for doing his best and welcoming him warmly, jaehyun seems almost irritated at how long it took the chinese boy to do something as basic and kindergarten leveled as introducing himself. the entire time he stared at the (barely) younger boy with narrowed, scrutinizing eyes, not bothering to hide any scoffs that slipped from his mouth whenever a mistake was made.

at the start sicheng was able to recognize that jaehyun was one of  _ those _ koreans.

that same night he found himself curled up against kun’s chest as he sobbed freely, trying to find an explanation as to why jaehyun treated him like he was lesser than the others, “why does he look at me so close-mindedly?” as he spoke freely in his mother tongue, he felt a slight pressure get relieved at the chance to finally be able to express himself without sounding like a child.

kun just rubbed his friend’s back in a soothing manner, his heart aching at how confused and upset sicheng sounded. a loud sigh left his lips, “i don’t know, baobei.”

(it was never weird in sicheng’s mind for kun to call him in such terms of endearment, from the start they bonded quickly and it was almost comforting in his mind.)

“i wish i knew, it hurts me to see you so sad,” with the sleeve of his hoodie, kun wiped the younger’s tears from his eyes and cheeks.

sicheng sniffled one last time and shifted himself into a more comfortable position, clutching onto kun’s sweater with a small hand, “stay with me tonight, please?” he tried to keep the edge of desperation out of his voice, “i… i really don’t want to be alone now,”

(it also wasn’t weird in sicheng’s mind for him to ask such things, it wasn’t odd for the other members to find the close friends cuddled in bed together after sicheng had a particularly bad day. they don’t do it much anymore now that yuta’s in the picture, though.)

opening his eyes, sicheng found himself back in his hometown in china. looking around, he recognized his old bedroom that he remembers insisting had to be decorated with dinosaurs still despite the fact he was nearly 13. he slipped off his old bed and hit the floor with a quiet thump, making his way out the room and down carpeted stairs.

a tall, thin woman was standing in the kitchen, a cigarette hanging from plump lips, gaze moving to meet sicheng’s as he hit the last step. recognizing it as a younger version of his mother, a smile made its way onto his face as he bounced over happily to greet her.

“what are you so happy for? it’s nearly 2 pm, why did you sleep so long?” the woman paused to take a long drag of the cigarette, “you know you’re supposed to wake up at 6 so you can do your chores, i didn’t raise you to be lazy.”

“are you dumb? answer me, sicheng.”

the harshness in her voice was clear and she made no attempt to cover it up, her gaze not a far cry from the same one jaehyun gave him earlier in the day.

sicheng felt the smile fall from his face as a strange feeling bubbled up inside him as his mother made her way over to him in long, smooth strides, smoke following behind her. the strange feeling turned to panic as she asked if she needed to punish him for not listening, and immediately he shook his head as repressed memories crashed into his mind.

“too bad you don’t make the decisions then,”

searing hot pain in his arm made sicheng stumble backwards, nearly tripping as he turned to run back up the stairs to his bedroom. looking at his right arm, sicheng found the reason behind the pain. a small circle was embedded in his arm, still red. his stomach lurched as the forgotten sensation of a cigarette burn became quickly recognizable again, and he screamed so loud that he was jolted out of his dreams.

he woke up wailing, thick tears streaming from his eyes as his chest heaved, trying to shake the now fresh memories out of his mind. he felt tight arms wrap around him and felt a hand rub small circles in his back in an attempt to ease his crying, face buried into kun’s sweater.

“baobei, hey, it’s okay baobei, i’ve got you,” kun whispered soft reassurances to the younger until the crying slowly came to a stop, becoming nothing more than a few weak whimpers and sniffles. after he looked up at kun with wide eyes still wet with tears and distress evident across his features, kun couldn’t help but feel his heart shatter more

“do you want to talk about it?”

sicheng was hesitant at first, biting his bottom lip as he scooted up to a sitting position. 

“it was about my mom…” at the small nod of encouragement, he forced more words from his mouth, “i was at my old house in china, the one we lived in when i was 13, and i went downstairs to see my mom.”

“i haven’t seen her in so long, kun-ge. i was so happy, it was almost like i was enthusiastic to see her. but she just looked at me like i was dumb, and she yelled at me.”

“she asked why i woke up so late in the afternoon and said she didn’t raise me to be so lazy, she asked me if i was dumb. and then-” sicheng’s voice cracked and he let out a shaky breath, “she asked if she needed to punish me. it made me remember all the cruel things she used to do to me, kun-ge, i was so scared.”

“all she did that time was burn me with her cigarette, she used to do it a lot, y’know. it took so long for the scars to go away, my arms and chest used to be covered in them. it made me remember everything i tried to forget,”

“it made me remember how she used to rip me apart and constantly make me fall back down and step on me, only to go to her friends and shamelessly worry about me, how concerned she was that i wasn’t the lively, happy boy i used to be and all that. it made me sick how she acted,”

when sicheng brought his gaze to meet kun’s again, he felt relieved to not see any pity in the older’s eyes.

“oh, kun?”

taking the low hum from kun as a sign to carry on, he added one last thing, “my mom, she gave me the same look that jaehyun gave me earlier, that look like i was nothing more than garbage under their feet.”

kun opened his arms up for the other to fall into again, this time threading his fingers softly through black hair, “i’m so sorry, baobei… i’m always here to protect you from everything, i promise,” in a childish fashion, he made sicheng link pinkies together with him, “jaehyun… your mom… they both follow the same kind of crooked compass. their values are only surrounded by money and things that make them look good. they’re jealous that you won’t end up like them, scared that you’ll succeed in ways they won’t.”

sicheng pouted and craned his neck upwards, “kun-ge, you don’t have to protect me and try to defend me until the end. you know that i’d rather leave than become someone like them,” 


	3. 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kind of a shorter chapter but the hook and refrain of am 4:44 are also short sooo  
> uh.. dont smoke kids its bad for ur health and way too addicting, i wish i never started  
> no trigger warnings for this chapter i think

the night is noticeably cooler in comparison to the heat of earlier, and sicheng sits on the edge of the balcony with his chin resting on the balcony as he lets the gentle breeze ruffle his hair. he looks up at the dark sky and all the millions of stars, imagining all the infinite numbers of galaxies and planets beyond what he can see.

it’s these kinds of comfortable nights that he likes to spend alone singing freely, letting his song flow out into the open air without holding back. he pours all his emotions into every word, for once not bothering to keep them shut away in a tiny lock box.

his voice always shakes and falters at the end of the song though as he gets too overwhelmed with the painful emotions. that’s always been sicheng’s weakness, letting himself get drowned in any sort of feeling in a rapid manner, especially negative ones that only served to tear his heart out and chip away at him. 

when he finishes singing, he always finds himself feeling emptier than before as he swings his legs freely and gazes wistfully at the night sky once more. there isn’t really a use in the end for his nearly nightly ritual, in his mind it’s just his over version of a confession to the universe that goes unheard.

sicheng envies the stars and often wishes that he could join them carelessly in the sky, leaving behind all the turmoil and hardships of his current life. it’s not that he necessarily wishes to be dead, he thinks often of it but in the end realizes how utterly selfish it would be of him to commit suicide, but he wishes he could take a break for once from the chaos of each day and feel free, even if it was just for a single night. when the bitter realization that he won’t get a ever get a break sinks into his mind, he gets bitter and wishes the whole damned world would up and disappear.

before he notices it per usual, a few tears are quickly slipping their way down his face and dropping down to the ground below, wiping his face with an oversized sleeve and shaking his head to clear his thoughts.

he almost missed the sound of the balcony door sliding open.

turning around, he was faced with the sight of his tired-eyed boyfriend stepping out onto the cool cement in nothing but cheap slides.

“ah... sichengie… it’s getting late, are you coming in soon? we have early schedules tomorrow,” yuta sounded almost apologetic as he gave a small explanation to the younger, bringing a hand up to rub his arm. 

sicheng bit the inside of his cheek and pulled his long legs back up and over the edge so he could stand to lean against the railing again, clearing his throat as he hoped his tears would go unnoticed, “yeah, i just wanted some fresh air, y’know? uh, i must’ve lost track of time, sorry yuyu,”

stepping close to the thin boy, sympathy quickly took over yuta’s features as he noticed what sicheng desperately hoped he wouldn’t, “baobei,” his voice was gentler now as he reached for his boyfriend’s hand, “were you crying?”

god, did sicheng hate sympathetic stares. it doesn’t matter who they came from or for what reason they were directed, he didn’t like the way they made him feel like the other was pitying him or the way they made his skin crawl in the wrong ways. he felt his body tense up and he swallowed uncomfortably.

“no, i’m fine, yuta,”

he moved his hand away from the other’s and shoved his own into the pocket of his hoodie, staring hard at the ground in front of him, “don’t look at me like that,” came out as a rushed jumble of words.

“like what?” the japanese man’s tone was laced with confusion and the sting of rejection momentarily wounded him when his hand was rejected.

“like.. like you pity me,”

the words were a shock to yuta and he bristled at the words, mouth hanging slightly open as he searched for the right words, “i don’t pity you at all, where are you getting these ideas from?”

sicheng seemed to curl in on himself as his shoulder hunched forward and he just shook his head, pressing himself back against the cool metal of the railing as he still refused to meet his lover’s eyes, “nevermind, just go back to bed. i’ll be there soon,”

when yuta didn’t move, sicheng looked up at him, “please, just go, yuta,” he didn’t mean for his voice to come out trembling, but his body seemed to betray him anyways. he watched as yuta just stared at him with an unrecognizable emotion in his eyes before turning around back into the dorms, sliding the door shut behind him.

this is when sicheng allowed the tears to calmly flow out without restraint and he pulled out a pack of cigarettes with a shaky hand, retrieving the lighter and a single cigarette from it before putting it back into his pocket. he hastily lit it, wasting no time in bringing it to his lips and taking a long drag from it, letting the smoke and nicotine fill his lungs.

if yuta were to come back and see him, he’d slap the cigarette right from his boney fingers with talk about how horrible it was for his body, but as the nicotine had a soothing effect over his nerves the chinese boy couldn’t find it in himself to care about that possibility.

a haze of smoke drifted into the air, and he watched as it floated up and dissipated after a while, wishing he could the do the same.


	4. 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another short chapter, the next one will be longer i promise <3  
> poor bby winwin, i love him w my whole heart n hes one of my ults im sorry im hurting him  
> so much ;////; forgive me ~  
> tw for disordered eating habits, vomiting, and drinking

the next morning, the dorms are almost eerily peaceful, no commotion from outside his shared room, the sound of voices and footsteps nonexistent.

sicheng felt confusion creep into his half-asleep mind as he looked across the room at the empty bed, rolling over to pluck his phone off the charger and check the time, thinking maybe he woke up before everyone else and his roommate had fallen asleep on the dorm’s shared couch.

it was nearly noon and he felt a jolt of panic shoot through him as he slid off the bed, feet quickly carrying him throughout the dorms in search of anyone, only to find it entirely empty. he pulled out his phone and opened kakao to message someone, only to see he already had a message from yuta.

 

**yuyu <3 7:00 a.m.**

i told manager hyung that you’re sick today so you couldn’t go to practices

i know you didn’t get to sleep until very early this morning, so i thought you could use the rest  
  
take care of yourself today, baobei, we’ll be back at 5

**yuyu <3 7:08 a.m.**

oh, and please don’t smoke anymore today

 

after taking a brief moment to text his boyfriend back, he tossed his phone onto the couch and slumped down onto it, letting out a heavy sigh as he sank into the cheap cushions. he didn’t realize how long he stayed on the balcony in the cool night air alone, wallowing in his bad thoughts and letting himself loathe the things he couldn’t change. the recollection of how he spent his thought almost made him feel pathetic, how could he expect to be successful if he let everything drag him down?

guilt also hit him at the same time as he realized if yuta was awake to notice the time that he finally slipped into bed, then that must’ve meant he stayed up waiting to make sure he made it back inside, and the added text asking him to refrain from any activities involving cigarettes must’ve meant he smelt the lingering scent of smoke that following him into the bedroom.

sometimes sicheng felt like he didn’t deserve his boyfriend with how complicated, for lack of a better word, he was. he was stubborn and difficult at times, often shutting everyone out for days at a time when a depressive episode hits, but nonetheless yuta stays by his side the whole time to make sure he never falls too deep, and if he does, his boyfriend is right there to gently pull him out and give him all the love and healing gestures he needs in order to feel better.

someone as disgusting as himself doesn’t deserve to be held by someone so angelic, so most of the time now sicheng keeps his mouth shut.

mentally cursing himself, sicheng peels himself off from the couch and shuffles towards the kitchen, opening and examining the cabinets in search of wherever the alcohol is hidden, but the sight and smells of all the different types of snacks and foods makes his stomach growl in protest and he realizes he can’t remember the last time he actually ate something.

usually he was good at suppressing the hunger and the pain that comes along with it with the help of diet pills and mindless distractions, but the temptations laid out in front of him was too much to handle and he felt his self control slowly slipping.

without thinking, sicheng pulled out a bag of seaweed crisps and opened it, wasting no time in devouring the entire bag before pulling out more and more snacks, desperately shoveling food into his mouth as if his life depended on it. eventually he moved onto the fridge, pulling out leftovers from the times taeyong’s cooked and downing them too without bothering to heat them up at all, washing it down with sugary sodas and water.

sicheng’s stomach cramped in protest at how unbearably full he was beginning to feel and he soon came back to his senses, eyes wide and panic surging through his veins as he saw all the empty containers and wrappers littered around him. he wasted no time in sprinting to the nearest bathroom, nearly stumbling over his own feet.

he never felt more happy to see a toilet in his life as he kneeled in front of the porcelain, shoving two skinny fingers down his throat, violently gagging himself until his stomach finally expelled it’s contents into the toilet, surging over chapped lips and nearly choking him on the way up.

forcing himself to vomit multiple times until he felt like everything got up, he flushed the toilet before gulping down water from the tap and forcing himself to throw up again and again until all that came up was stinging acid that burned his throat and clear liquids.

_ fuck.  _

hurrying to flush the toilet again and to wash his hands multiple times, sicheng’s face twisted in disgust at the person in the mirror with watery eyes and swollen lips.

“fuck you,”

he left the bathroom before his thoughts could get the better of himself and he turned back to his original task of finding any sort of alcohol. realistically, he knows getting drunk on an empty stomach after throwing up is a bad idea from experience, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

a bottle of soju was hidden underneath the kitchen sink and he grabbed it without hesitation, pouring it into a tall glass, “bottoms up, i guess,” speaking out into the silence, he tipped the glass back and downed it all in one go, feeling utterly disgusted in himself.

the glasses continued until the soju bottle was empty and he was feeling pleasantly drunk, letting the alcohol flow through his body and letting it anesthetize his sadness, allowing it to kill his bad thoughts temporarily for at least a few hours of pleasure. he knew yuta would be pissed when he came home and he was drunk off his ass, but that was a problem for future sicheng, not him now.

being drunk was freeing, he liked how it allowed him to forget all the negatives, let him forget, in his own words, what a dumb shit he was, and how it cleared his mind. he stood up and wobbled a bit as he went back to his and yuta’s room on unsteady feet, the room spinning around him as he lands on a bed- unsure if it’s his own or his lovers -with a heavy thud, giggling at nothing as he stared at the ceiling.


	5. 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think i'll have two more chapters after this one, i'm trying to decide if i want it to end happily or sadly  
> .-. decisions, decisions...  
> tw pills

loud yelling of his name is what sicheng wakes up to, his vision blurry and unfocused as he slowly opened his eyes, squinting at the bright light coming from the ceiling. his head throbbed and he groaned, turning to bury his face in the covers.

yuta scowled and repeated himself, moving to shake the chinese boy’s shoulders, trying to ignore how sharp and boney he felt under his hands, “seriously, sicheng?” he shook harder despite the growing protests, “you need to get up.”

flinching at the harsh tone, sicheng slowly uncovered his face and let his eyes adjust to the light, but it was still hard to focus when it felt like someone was driving a nail into his skull, “yuyu… my head hurts,”

“i wonder why.” yuta’s tone was harsh but his facial expression was one of concern as gave the other some pain pills and a water bottle, helping him get into a sitting position so he could actually take the medication.

sicheng cringed as he took the pills and tossed the water bottle to somewhere else on the bed, clearing his throat awkwardly as he saw his boyfriend stare him down the entire time, “soo…”

crossing long arms across his chest, yuta tipped his head to the side, “care to explain why there’s an entire big empty bottle of soju out in the kitchen when you know you’re not supposed to be drinking? you shouldn’t even be doing that, especially when i know you haven’t eaten in days,” he didn’t mean for his voice to come out laced with accusation, but he couldn’t help it, “you know how long it took me to wake you up? nearly twenty minutes, sicheng.”

the chinese boy always knew he was in trouble whenever yuta used his actual name instead of some nickname, and he involuntarily flinched back, nervously trapping his bottom lip between his teeth, “don’t be mad at me, please,” his voice betrayed his own guilt, “i just… i don’t know, okay? i’m sorry, really,” he didn’t feel like getting into all the technicalities and little details as to why he did exactly as he did, he didn’t feel like stressing out yuta anymore with his stupid problems.

yuta’s face softened more as he reached out and set a hand on sicheng’s knee, “fuck, sicheng… i’m so worried about you, you know? it’s so hard to just sit here and watch, you don’t even talk to me about what’s wrong anymore,” he felt tears prick at the back of his eyes and he shut them tightly in an attempt to push them away, “it hurts me, all i want to do is help and protect you, baobei…” mouth still slightly open as if he wanted to say more, yuta opened his teary eyes again before closing it and standing from the bed, “i’ll leave you alone for a bit,”

sicheng didn’t make any attempt to stop his lover from leaving, watching the tall japanese man leave the room with light footsteps as guilt gnawed at his stomach. it’s not that he didn’t purposely shut yuta out, he just didn’t feel like it was the responsibility of his boyfriend to watch over him and deal with his problems that he could just deal with.

the need to talk to someone though was still in the back of his mind, and he reached around the bed for his phone so he could text the one person he’s always been able to confidently confide in.

 

 **winwin** **7:47 p.m.**

kun-ge? 

can you come to my room?

i really need to talk to someone

 

**kun-ge 7:49 p.m.**

i’ll be right there

 

true to his word, it was less than a minute before kun was poking his head through the doorframe, walking in as he spotted sicheng, shutting the door behind him. he sat next to the other chinese boy and opened his arms, which the other fell into without hesitation.

“i don’t understand,” sicheng’s voice grew thick as he fought to hold back the sob that rose up his throat, “i try to hard to live without an ounce of shame to my hyungs and dongsaengs, especially mark and donghyuck, i want to set a good example for them,” the korean mixed in with his native tongue sounded a bit funny, but he didn’t care as he let his worries flow freely.

after kun started rubbing gentle circles of reassurance into sicheng’s lower back, he continued, “if someone warned me that being an idol would be this bad, i would’ve never come to korea. the people they kept sending to recruit me made this sound like a dream, like it could be everything i ever wanted and more,”

“and i believed them like an idiot. those assholes who ruined my life are living well with their bellies full, all they care about is money, they’re so greedy that it disgusts me, they don’t even care that their idols are suffering because of their selfishness,” a single tear slid down his cheek, followed by a few others.

“they don’t care about the victim mentality they’re leaving behind, they’re so ignorant but ignoring them is as pointless as dust. i don’t know what to do anymore, kun-ge, everything is falling apart and i’m so scared, i wish i could run away from everything,”

kun continued to rub sicheng’s back as the younger started to cry freely into his shirt, soaking the thin material, “oh, sichengie… i know it’s hard, it’s so fucking hard, but we’ll make it together. i told you years ago that i’ll always protect you and i wasn’t lying,” he stopped his hand motions to opt for wrapping his arms around sicheng in a tight embrace, feeling his heart twist, “just please don’t give up on us, you have to promise me you won’t. we’ll get through this and i swear one day it’ll all be okay.

sicheng sniffled one more time before slipping out his kun’s tight grip, looking at him with bleary eyes, “i’m sorry,” he reached down to take one of the other’s hand, linking their pinkies together like kun made him do all those years back, “i promise i won’t give up, kun-ge,”

“thank you,” kun offered him a sad smile before squeezing his hand and leaving the room, casting one more glance at the younger before shutting the door completely.

again, he was alone. shuffling over to his own bed, sicheng reached into his bedside drawer and dug underneath all the various items and socks before his fingers wrapped around the hard, round plastic of a pill bottle.

technically he wasn’t supposed to have these, but he bought them off some random stranger months ago when he was going days without sleeping and he still had a decent amount to spare. he wasn’t sure what the pills were, but he knew they weren’t exactly legal for him to have without a prescription.

shaking three slightly large oval-shaped pills, he thinks they were called trazodone now that he thinks about it, into his palm, he screwed the lid back on and buried the bottle again. after deciding the water bottle on yuta’s bed was too far, he threw the pills into his mouth and tipped his head back as he dry swallowed them, nearly gagging as they almost got caught in his throat.

with a dissatisfied look on his face, he curled up on his bed where it met the corner of the wall, drawing his knees up to his chest. just like the pills in his left hand, his passion had finally also left him. his fans that metaphorically hold both his hands so he won’t fall doesn’t even feel like enough drive for him anymore.

sicheng knows he promised kun he wouldn’t give up, but the thought of running away from everything and just leaving seemed so appealing. it would be so easy to leave behind everything’s he worked and suffered for, to just put down the weight of reality that had trapped him for so long and finally be free, but it’d be a selfish decision.

all he can do is cry, so he does. he cries a lot and he hates how weak it makes him feel, but he thinks this time he really needs it. after all, sicheng is his own refuge, right?

he really doesn’t think so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just to clarify it obviously wasn't a suicide attempt sfjsfjs  
> taking three 150mg trazodone won't harm you, you'll just be knocked tf out for quite a while and  
> feel like a zombie the next day (speaking from experience) so dont worry, im not mean enough to  
> kill my bbu :[


	6. 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk why i had so much trouble with this chapter ;//; i still feel like it's bad..  
> tw eating disorders n self harm mentions  
> we love heavily projecting :"")

sicheng doesn’t remember what time he went to sleep, but he imagines it can’t be much later than donghyuck had as he actually feels rested for once. nonetheless, he yawned and stretched long limbs, relishing in the way his joints popped, his body feeling relieved as he curled into a ball again under his thick comforter.

the cold still managed to find a way to seep into his bones as he lay under the blanket, and he shivered as his icy fingers brushed against his arms. he hated how these little things reminded him of how he chose to treat his body, because sure, if he ate like a normal person maybe he wouldn’t feel absolutely freezing all the time, but it wasn’t as simple as  _ just eating _ .

it never was. he tried explaining that to yuta once, unable to bite back any harsh replies as the conversation turned into their first argument they had ever had, and the thought of it still makes him cringe. sometimes he wishes it was that simple, that he could sit with everyone else in the morning and at night to eat meals without intense fear, he wishes he could stay up late watching movies and snacking on candies and popcorns without having to run to the bathroom and practically purge his guts out.

all the thoughts of food and eating reminded sicheng’s stomach of how painfully hungry it was, pain ripping through the organ, causing the chinese boy to whimper and wrap his arms around himself. slowly emerging from the blanket pile, he sits up on his bed and stares at yuta who was leaving the shared bathroom, hair still slightly damp and hanging in his eyes.

“good morning, baobei,” yuta sent a heart-melting smile at his boyfriend, the special kind reserved just for him, “are you hungry this morning? i can make you something if you’d like, it doesn’t have to be much, i could make some miso soup for you,”

the older’s tone was so sweet and the gesture was appreciated, but sicheng was having a hard time battling the voices in his head as he tried to justify the thought of something entering his system. miso soup was low in calories, it was warm and it would fill his stomach in a comfortable way, but his mind still screamed at him about that would make him weak, he didn’t deserve anything other than water.

“ah..” his voice trailed off slightly at the end as he clutched his stomach tighter, “i appreciate the thought, yuyu, but i’m okay right now, i don’t feel quite hungry when i just wake up,”

“promise you’ll eat something before we leave for practice?”

and there it was, the promise, or for what it actually was, the compromise. if sicheng declined the offer of a morning meal, his boyfriend would always ask him in that stupidly sweet voice of his to promise that he’d eat at least something to sustain himself during the intensive dance sessions.

sicheng found himself promising every time regardless, “yes, i promise. taeyong hyung just bought more fruits right? i’ll eat an apple before we leave,” he hated lying through his teeth, knowing his voice wavered just enough to betray him.

if yuta noticed his struggling, he stayed silent as he left the room, seemingly disinterested in discussing anything further than that.

hugging his knees close to his chest as he nearly folded in on himself, sicheng let out a heavy sigh as he felt guilt creep up his throat, threatening to crawl out of his mouth and to spill all over the freshly washed sheets. 

he wished yuta would get far away from him, so far away that he couldn’t get hurt himself. painful claws gripped at sicheng’s heart every time he entertained the thought of death, thinking about how he’d selfishly be leaving his lover behind, alone in the unforgiving world with a broken heart.

it wasn’t as if he didn’t slowly break the older’s heart every time he took a fresh blade to his skin and ripped it apart until he sat in a puddle of sticky redness, or every time he stayed outside smoking cigarette after cigarette until his lungs were filled with smoke and his clothes smelled of nicotine, or even every time he refused to keep food inside his stomach longer for ten minutes.

maybe he was a bad boyfriend.

the words of comfort were meaningless to him, there was nothing that would make him feel better about himself or anything he did. in sicheng’s mind, words didn’t last, they dissipated as soon as they’re spoken out loud into the air, that’s why he likes to leave written ‘i love you’ notes for his boyfriend to find, or why he likes to spend nights detailing every single flaw of his in an old tattered notebook.

so maybe he can’t take control of his life, maybe he can’t ever get better, but that’s okay. the meaning of hurt to him doesn’t exist to him, it only exists in the world of those who are full of lies. even if he has to suffer through nightmares every night, he’ll do it alone. 

sicheng’s exhausted of burdening everyone else with his problems and he can imagine that everyone else in nct is as well no matter how hard they deny it.

as he slips off his bed and makes his way lightly to the bathroom to stare hard at the reflection in the mirror, he grips the countertop hard until his knuckles turn white. 

from now on, he’d just do his own thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the ending of his chapter sucks OTL i'm so sorry  
> the next chapter will be the final one i think :3


	7. 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im so sorry it took so long to upload this, and im sorry if it is disappointing  
> or anything... ive been in treatment for nearly six weeks for a number of things  
> so i havent had the motivation or drive to write the final chapter i promised :<  
> i hope nonetheless you enjoy it, pls leave a kudos or comment if you   
> feel up to it ;//; <3

how did things end up like this?

sicheng stared blankly at the floor under him, feeling floaty and detached from the world as he traced circles on the tiles with a bloodied finger.

the blood? why is it here?

he tried to rack his brain for answers but he couldn’t focus long enough to comprehend the obvious reason for the blood that poured from a tore open thigh and drip-dropped onto the previously white tiles and pooled around his sitting figure.

a look to his left, opposite the bloodied mess, was an open prescription bottle with only a few white pills scattered around. he really did it this time, he thought as he tried to remember where he obtained the medications from, he doesn’t recall ever being prescribed anything of the sort.

it slowly started to feel hard to breathe and sicheng felt the weariness shake off and felt the icy chill of panic seep under his skins, into his bones. his movements were still sluggish and disorientated as he clasped his hands into his mutilated leg, feeling sticky and uncomfortably wet as he weakly attempted to apply pressure.

he doesn’t want to die.

the realization hits him like a ton of bricks as his heart rate picks up and he doesn’t know when tears started streaming down his face, but they were there and they burned his eyes and his lungs felt like they were on fire as he struggled to take heaving gasps.

tiny black dots danced around in his vision like falling snow and with the last bit of energy he held in his emaciated body, he let out a piercing scream for yuta, for anyone, to come save him before it was too late.

“i don’t want to die,” a pathetic sob escaped his lips and blackness edged his vision more. his hands left his thigh and instead pressed against his face, salty tears mixing with the blood that smelled strongly of iron and made his pill-stuffed stomach churn.

sicheng tries to ignore the pangs of guilt he feels mixed within the fear and panic and absolute devastation, the guilt of being so stupidly selfish as to try and end his life by his own hands, the guilt of what this would do to yuta and everyone else in nct, the guilt of letting down so many adoring fans who supported him no matter what.

_ you really fucked up bad, this time, dong sicheng. there’s a special place in hell for fucks like you. _

even in a time where he caved in, the voices that invaded his mind were unrelentless. he still doesn’t want to die, and he really doesn’t want to go to hell. everyone always told him he was their angel, he hoped it’d be the same even when he was six feet underground and his spirit left his body to ascend to heaven above.

violent knocking on the door and the impact of it swinging open and hitting the wall shocked sicheng out of his thoughts and through bleary vision he made out his boyfriend’s and kun’s panicked forms. the piercing scream yuta let out made him wince as he felt his heart shatter, and he did nothing but try to push an apology past his lips when kun fell to his knees next to him, yelling into his phone for an ambulance to hurry.

“don’t talk, please, you need to save your energy,” kun gathered the frail boy into his arms as he commanded yuta to bring him the first aid box from under the skin, trying to keep his voice from betraying his alarm.

sicheng just nodded weakly and let his head fall back against the older’s shoulder as he felt pressure being applied to still bleeding cuts, and managed the saddest of smiles as he felt yuta shakily hold onto his hand, whispering reassurances.

it sounded more like yuta was trying to reassure himself more than anything as his teary eyes met the younger’s that mirrored his own.

blaring sirens were the last thing sicheng heard before he finally closed his heavy eyelids, succumbing to the tired feeling within his bones, letting the deafening blackness sweep over him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i couldnt bring myself to explicitly kill him so.. open ending, sorry!!!  
> you can decide whether he died before they could help him, or if   
> they got him to the hospital in time!!!
> 
> i hope this fic was enjoyable despite being angst, its my first  
> multi-chaptered fic ever so im slightly proud of it <3

**Author's Note:**

> i think each verse will be a chapter? verse 1 of am 4:44 helped kind of guide  
> me along out of the writer block, i'll update probably frequently as i want to  
> finish this !!!  
> kudos/comments/feedback in general are really helpful and appreciated, so  
> i know if people like this at all ;//;


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